


Adventures In Flat Pack Furniture

by thenerdyantelope



Series: Jimmy and Brian's Adventures In... [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdyantelope/pseuds/thenerdyantelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy adores DIY things, Brian doesn't, fluff ensues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures In Flat Pack Furniture

**Author's Note:**

> fluffy grateful apologetical drabble for [abbi](http://willgrahamed.tumblr.com/) because she made me a gif and i also made her cry (also ta to [spall](http://penfoldismrshrink.tumblr.com/) bcos he gave me half the idea and checked it over and all that)

“Did you know that when IKEA started in America that they were selling small vases really well because people were using them as large tumblers?” Jimmy told Brian enthusiastically as they walked through the showrooms. Jimmy had decided roughly two hours earlier that he needed to completely redesign their house because “the furniture was boring and used”. Brian knew this was code for “I want new and pretty things in my house because I’m an impulsive buyer and intend to have sex on as many different sofas as I can before I die”-something Brian had no issue with. What he did have an issue with was being dragged through the shop amongst the families with small children who insisted on screaming every ten minutes because they don’t want to leave, when he could be sleeping. Jimmy’s impulsive decision had woke him up roughly three hours before he wanted to be awakened.

“No I didn’t,” He replied to his husband lazily, “Thanks Jim. Really enlightening.” His sarcastic drawl caused Jimmy to frown.

“You’re just grumpy because I won’t have sex with you in one of the beds.” Jimmy retorted, elbowing his husband playfully.

“It’s estimated that one in five children are conceived in an IKEA bed. For us it’d be all the sex and none of the consequences.”  Brian shrugged, he couldn’t see a flaw in his idea.

A small smile lit Jimmy’s face, “You do listen to me. I told you that fact three hours ago.”

“It’s easier to listen to you when you’re jabbering, at least I feel vaguely educated in useless trivia afterwards.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and pecked his husbands cheek before getting distracted by a key holder that looked like a block of honeycomb. It was like a puzzle, with key rings which fitted into the hexagonal gaps.

“I want it.” He said, staring at it with fascination. Brian huffed, and was about to say no when Jimmy spoke again, “Please Bri. It’s the _bees knees_.”

His husband stared at him with disdain, “If I let you buy it will you please never make a pun again.”

“May _bee_.” Jimmy replied, smugly picking up the box and cradling it.

“Fine. But you’re putting it up.”

Jimmy tiptoed and kissed Brian’s cheek lightly before saying, “Thanks honey.” He ducked out of the way of Brian’s shove, causing him to push a load of cushions off a shelf. The pair of them stood stock still for ten seconds staring at the mess Brian had made before Brian grabbed Jimmy’s hand and dragged him from the scene, waiting until they were a few aisles away before cracking up.

“You’re an idiot.” Jimmy laughed, as Brian’s blush continued to deepen when he saw an IKEA employee go over to the mountain of cushions and peer around for the culprits.

“You moved.” Brian sulked. He felt bad for the person that would have to clear up the mess he made, but was too embarrassed to own up to it.

Jimmy sighed, not wanting Brian to start whining at him, “Come on. We’ll go get the wardrobe and then go.”

“ _Finally._ ”

*****

When they got home Brian went and slumped on the sofa, regretting his decision to sit up and marathon season two of _Orange Is The New Black_ rather than sleeping. Jimmy had curled up next to him and dozed off around half way through episode five, claiming that although it was a fantastic and representative show, he was old and need his beauty sleep. Brian on the other hand had been engrossed in the action and five episodes later concluded that he wanted to be fully awake to watch the final few episodes so had dragged Jimmy up to bed.

Now he curled up, putting on some random documentary on the making of biscuits in the hope that Jimmy would come and join him rather than making lots of noise in his attempts to put up his new wardrobe and key holder. He knew his hope was in vain when he heard the clatter of the attic ladder from upstairs; Jimmy had evidently gone to hunt out the drill. Brian groaned softly, Locard hopping up next to him and curling up next to his chest.

“I wouldn’t bother pup. Jim’ll be making a racquet in a minute so it’s really not worth trying to nap.” He cuddled the dog close as he heard Jimmy thunking down the stairs, terrified for the mess he was about to create in their hallway.

Half an hour of clanging and drilling later Brian heard a suspicious bang from the hallway, followed by a faint whine from his husband-he didn’t sound in pain, more defeated, so he decided he wouldn’t bother getting up. Instead he called, “You okay Jim?”

“The thing fell down.” Jimmy mumbled, coming through and frowning at Brian.

Brian glanced up at him, “What a shame,” he told him, “You’ll have to just come and cuddle me instead.” He opened his arms, beckoning Jimmy in.

“I will not let Ingvar Kamprad down. It will go on the wall.” He replied stubbornly, crossing his arms, resisting the temptation that was his husband spread out in front of him.

Brian sighed, heaving himself up and walking through to the hallway, contemplating the decoration on the floor before picking it up and sitting it on the set of drawers beneath the mirror, “There. Sorted. Now get rid of the drill and come screw something useful.” He winked at Jimmy before returning to the sofa.

“How come you’re allowed to make puns?” Jimmy whined, remembering the berating he’d had earlier, as he shoved the drill back in its box and placed it on the stairs, plodding through to his husband and cuddling up next to him.

“Because mine are funny and get me laid.” He kissed Jimmy’s nose, and curled his arms around him, pulling him close.

Jimmy smiled, “No they don’t. You know what would get you laid. Helping me set up the wardrobe.”

Brian pulled away, “I’m going celibate then. Last time I helped you with a flat-pack you ended up getting in a strop and breaking it. I think you then gave it to Danny for Christmas.”

“That table didn’t do the original LOVET justice. My twin doesn’t do me justice. They matched. And you put the screws in wrong anyway.” He mumbled.

“Whatever. You can do it yourself. Or get Bev to help, she has more success with these kind of things anyway.” Brian shrugged; he hated flat-packs, years of having to help his sister’s move into flats or houses had made him never want to touch a box with the words on it ever again.

Jimmy crawled onto Brian’s lap, the younger man huffing slightly under the weight, “Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow,” He buried his face into Brian’s neck and muttered playfully, “I didn’t want _your_ help anyway.”

“Fine.” Brian said, trying not to fall for the trick Jimmy was playing.

“I guess I’ll go call her now.” Jimmy said wistfully.

Brian gave in, “First one upstairs gets to pop the bubble wrap.” He told him before pushing Jimmy off him and the pair raced upstairs.

*****

They sat staring at the wardrobe, they’d tried to make it fit together properly, but somehow the top was crooked and the door handles kept falling off.

“Well it’s definitely an attempt?” Jimmy said, the optimism faded from his voice as Brian pulled the wardrobe open, the door coming off in his hand.

Brian laughed, “We’ll make Bev do it for us tomorrow.” He tossed the door on the floor and stood in front of his husband who was sat on the bed, resting his arms lightly on his shoulders.

“She’ll hate us.”

“Nah she won’t, she loves clearing up our messes,” Brian smiled at Jim, pecking his temple before pulling at his wrist, “Come on. I need to finish my show.”

“Do you have to?” Jimmy patted the space on the bed hopefully.

Brian raised an eyebrow, “Yes. You made me do DIY. I’m going to make you watch TV with me. It’s fine you can sleep through it so the finale’s not spoiled for you.”

Jimmy smiled, “Fine. But I get to make puns throughout dinner.”

“Deal.” Brian beamed back at his husband, dragging him downstairs and the pair cuddled up on the sofa again, Brian knew he’d come to regret the deal he’d made after dinner, but was quiet happy to sit with Jimmy, enjoying the peace before the puns.


End file.
